


For the Lord and Not for Men

by QuestionableCorrosion



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Repressed Memories, Slice of Life, Spoilers, a dash of the latter two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestionableCorrosion/pseuds/QuestionableCorrosion
Summary: Yesterday, he doubted his sanity and the very fabric of reality.
Today, the church needs cleaning.





	For the Lord and Not for Men

The sun had begun its slow descent back behind the horizon, and Dogma still wasn't done polishing the pipe organ.

He sighed wearily and wiped sweat off his brow onto his arm, mindful not to let the soapy steel wool in his hand to touch his clothes. He was in a dilemma. Scrub any harder, and he'd risk bending the pipes, forever distorting their sound. Scrub more gently, and he wouldn't be done till dusk, with some of his daily chores still left undone. Scrubbing at the exact pace he had a moment ago was the only option, and he was sick of the monotonous rhythm.

And yet, all this was nothing compared to the ordeal every two months, where he'd have to dismantle the entire organ to deep-clean the pipes and then put it all back together again. Even with Cody's help, that easily took the whole day.

It wasn't meaningless, he reminded himself as he returned to scrubbing. It was God's house he was cleaning, and for God's sake that he did what he could to keep the church spotless day after day. Besides, it was easier to breathe in clean air. Not getting rid of dust when it first gathered was asking for trouble.

Still, it might have _felt_ less meaningless if he had known how to play the blasted thing. As it was, his instrumental prowess was limited to a shaky variation on the Flea Waltz, and any attempt to learn more would have been sure to disturb the entire village, thanks to the pipe organ's impressive echo. And so, music in the church remained _a cappella_ , and cleaning out the instrument remained a chore.

Finally done, he looked up to make sure he hadn't missed a spot. He couldn't help but admire what he saw. It was a magnificent instrument, and the way the pipes gleamed in many colours thanks to the setting sun beaming in through the stained glass windows was sure to illuminate the spirit of anyone witnessing it.

Satisfied with his work, he put the steel wool aside, looking around for his next task as he removed his gloves. His eyes briefly flitted over to where the goddess statue had stood as recently as the morning prior, and his heart sank. Foolish though affection for material things was, it was truly a shame to lose such a wondrous piece of art.

Still, what was done was done. And if he wished to look for a silver lining, no statue meant one thing fewer to polish.

Besides, the church had already received a new adornment. As he had gone to dispose of the broken pieces of the statue at the crack of dawn, he had witnessed a miracle; overnight, a medley of thick vines with large, purple flowers had grown all over the church's walls. Strange as they were, and though they made him feel oddly unsettled, they lend the building a poetic look. The Lord giveth.

With the statue gone, there was the matter of the windows — all clean — sweeping the floors — ditto — and the candlesticks _fire fire everywhere only ashes remain_

— the candlesticks were done, so the next order of business was also the last. Washing the floors, to give them a nice shine. He rolled his sleeves back down and picked up the cleaning supplies.

It was then that he realised he wasn't alone in the church.

On the pew farthest from the altar, with her head bowed and hands clasped, sat Gardenia, her lips mutely moving as she uttered what Dogma could only assume was a silent prayer. She was calm and still, much different from her usual bubbly self, yet clearly at peace.

Heart warmed by the sight, Dogma took extra care not to disturb the girl as he went to exchange his current supplies for a mop and a bucket.

When he returned, Gardenia was done with her prayers, balancing on the balls of her feet on the aisle, beaming as ever. "Hiii, Dogma!"

"Hello." More than once, Cody had asked him to at least try and smile when greeting someone, but one may as well have asked a fish to walk on land. "Is there something you need?"

"Not really." Gardenia tilted her head. "What are you doing?"

Dogma raised his red bucket of soapy water, his frown deepening. "Cleaning the church. As is usual."

"Right!" Gardenia kept smiling as she followed Dogma down the aisle, then visibly hesitated. "What happened to your post box? It's all covered in ink!"

"It's rust, not ink. ...I don't know why it appears so dark, nor where it comes from." Dogma had noticed the marred post box the same time he had noticed the vines on the walls. He had tackled it, too, which was why he was so late in his daily routine, but no amount of white vinegar or lemon juice had made the stains budge, regardless what his book on cleaning told him.

"That's weird." Gardenia bit her lip, blatantly trying to think of something else to ask. "Do you know where Cody went? I haven't seen her the whole day."

"I believe she accompanied Russell to Dragons' Peak."

"What, just the two of them?"

"No, absolutely not just the two of them!" Dogma lowered his voice to its normal decibels and continued. "They departed with Kantera and Tabasa, I believe. Presumably for sightseeing, since they didn't specify their goal."

"Oh, right. Russell mentioned that." Gardenia shuffled her feet. "Maybe I should've gone with them."

"Mulling over what could have been expends energy for no good reason," said Dogma in what he hoped was a sage rather than sanctimonious tone. "...If you are otherwise unoccupied, you can help me wash the floor. That should help clear your mind." Gardenia was not the most frequent visitor at the church, but more than once she had agreed to help out.

"Oh." Gardenia blinked a few times, then smiled faintly. "Sure."

"Excellent. I shall fetch you a mop, then."

Gardenia followed him to the supply closet, and mutely accepted the blue bucket and red-handled mop entrusted to her.

"Very well." Dogma rolled his sleeves back up and made sure they stayed there before continuing. "I will take the left side of the hall. You will take the right. We shall start at the end with the altar so that we can leave through the front door if necessary."

"Okay." Gardenia sounded less than enthusiastic, but raised her mop diligently nevertheless.

Dogma nodded and began his work.

It couldn't have been more than two minutes, during which he had successfully washed a corner and little else, when a loud crash and and the sound of soapy water splashing onto the floor echoed in the hall. Dogma turned to see Gardenia on her knees on the floor, shakily holding onto her mop with one hand and grasping the altar with the other, barely keeping herself upright.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" He abandoned his own mop and rushed over. "Are you injured? Are you able to stand?"

"I'm alright," Gardenia mumbled, but when she accepted the hand offered to her, she was shivering all over. Only now did Dogma notice the dark circles around her eyes, and the pallor of her skin.

"Sit down." He guided Gardenia to the nearest pew. "You should have told me you're unwell! There is no sense exerting yourself when you're ill."

"I'm not ill. Honest!" Gardenia's protests may have been more convincing had she uttered them not holding her head and quivering like a leaf.

Dogma sighed. "Stay there. I'll make you a cup of tea."

 

* * *

 

Ten minutes, and a few sips into a cup of tea sweetened to Gardenia's liking later, the girl had regained some colour on her cheeks, and Dogma had wrung out most of the excess water on the floor back into the bucket.

He stood back up, straightening the hem of his robe. "Once you are done with that, you ought to go home and rest. I shall tell Kantera about your condition once he returns. Are you well enough to return by yourself, or shall I escort you?"

Gardenia shook her head. "I meant it when I said I was fine. I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

"Is there a reason why?"

Was it his imagination, or did Gardenia look guilty? "I...well...I may have stayed up the whole night."

"...I beg your pardon?" Dogma felt a sermon coming up. "Why on earth would you do something like that? Without sound sleep, how are you supposed to live an honest life during the day? And without an honest life during the day... and at your age, too! You're far too young to play games with your health like that!"

Gardenia listened to Dogma's tirade without protest, then looked up. "I couldn't sleep because I was so excited!"

"Oh?"

"Dad's coming home today! That's why I came here, to pray that his travels are safe."

"Oh." He couldn't blame the poor child for staying up, then: her father had been gone from home for a long time indeed. "At what time is he to return?"

"He didn't say." Gardenia clasped the mug in her hands tightly and stared into its depths. "He usually comes home pretty late, but I was hoping it'd be sooner this time. Besides, it's almost sunset."

From what Dogma could discern through the stained glass, the sun was indeed about to set. It would be unsafe to leave the village in the dark, and he still wished to revisit Darcover Town, preferably before Cody returned. And he still had an almost entire church hall floor to wash. Oh, Lord.

"Perhaps you ought to return home and wait for him, then. Only as long as you feel fit to do so, naturally," he said as he stomped off to where he had abandoned his mop. He picked it up and brandished it like a weapon. The floors would be clean before sunset, or his name wasn't Dogma.

"Yeah..." Now, Gardenia was staring at her feet. "I'm just scared."

"Of what?" Gardenia had sounded oddly hesitant.

"Oh, it's nothing. I'm just worried..." Gardenia took a long sip from the mug before continuing. "What if I go home and wait the whole night, and he still hasn't come back?"

Despite his oath to get the cleaning done at once, Dogma gave his vigorous scrubbing a pause. "What makes you think that?"

Gardenia kicked her feet in the air. "I don't actually think that. He always comes back. It's just that...he's always gone for so long. And..." she shook her head. "I don't know. I've been feeling a little odd since the day before yesterday."

Dogma's ears perked at that. As it happened, he too had been feeling a bit peculiar since the ordeal at Darcover Town, but had chalked it up to excessive exhaustion. Surely the day hadn't been quite as bizarre as he recalled it. "Did something happen that day?"

"No, not really." Gardenia frowned like she didn't quite believe her own words, but Dogma could discern no lie in them. "Russell helped me to find a new frying pan. My old one wasn't stirring veggies crispy enough." As if by magic, Gardenia's smile regained its usual sunniness. "He's such a nice boy!"

"Indeed he is." It must have been a coincidence, then. Dogma ignored the nagging feeling on the back of his mind and kept scrubbing.

Gardenia seemed to be back to her usual good mood, too. "I wonder if Dad has brought something back for me," she said giddily. "He sometimes gets me cooking supplies from all around the world!"

"That is nice." Before Dogma could stop himself, he added: "...but you should not think of his return in terms of material goods."

"I don't," Gardenia replied with a pout. "He could come and tell me he's lost his job and I'd still be happy to see him. I'm sure it's the same with you and your father, right?"

Dogma shrugged and kept cleaning. "Our father died when Cody was a baby, actually." Before Gardenia could apologise, he quickly added: "Don't fret. It's no longer a painful subject, and I understand your intent. It sounds like how it is with you and your father, it is with us and our mother—"

_Red eyes from amidst the flames, burning with hatred. A white finger pointing accusingly at Russell. He felt Cody shudder without seeing her, and choked as hot ash filled his lungs—_

"Can you hear me?" Based on the fearful tone of Gardenia's voice, it wasn't the first time she had asked the same question in a row.

He looked down, and saw his knuckles were white around the handle of the mop. He relaxed his grip.

"Ah...I must have dozed off. My apologies." This would have been a good time for a reassuring smile, but the best Dogma could do was a kind of sombre nod. "You do not have to worry on my account."

Gardenia nodded, still hesitant. She placed the now empty mug on the pew next to her.

"As for you..." Dogma glanced at the windows. "I suggest you return home and retire early. If anything, that will make your father return faster." He supressed the shivers running down his spine. "In fact, I may do the same. Everyone can benefit from a good night's sleep now and then."

Gardenia nodded again, but now with a touch of defiance to her expression. "I want to see Dad as soon as he comes, and he never wakes me up if I'm already asleep then." She continued in a lower voice. "But if I go home right now and stay awake as long as I can, there's a good chance I'll be up when he comes..."

"Excellent," said Dogma, choosing to ignore her last statement. "That means he prioritises your health and growth over fleeting pleasures. If you are interested on the topic, I have a book on ethics which is quite understandable even to chi—"

"Thank you and byeee!" And before he could get another word in, Gardenia was out of the door. He could see her silhouette through the stained glass, skipping across the green towards the fountain as energetic as a ray of sunlight despite her earlier dizziness.

"It's a very educational book," Dogma muttered to himself, feeling less miffed than he expected himself to feel. Really, his mind was preoccupied with something else, although he wasn't quite sure what—

_Cody was in there somewhere, out of reach, he couldn't help her, and the fire was already everywhere, it was eating his flesh, even as he tried to get up to find her he could feel his body burning away_

Right. The floors.

He rinsed the mop and began scrubbing anew.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Eternal Melody](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8031919) by [MiniNephthys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniNephthys/pseuds/MiniNephthys)




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